Warm to the Touch
by Amethyst Shard
Summary: Harry’s feeling depressed and finds comfort in the last man he expected. Harry/Severus, slash.
1. Tempest

Title: Warm to the Touch  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Summary: Harry's feeling depressed and finds comfort in the last man he expected. Harry/Severus, slash.  
  
Disclaimer: I wrote this story, but I own nothing in it. Harry Potter is the creation and property of J. K. Rowling, Goddess bless her.  
  
Notes: I make vague mentions of the war with Voldemort, but I haven't read the fourth book yet and have no idea what's going to happen, so I probably won't go into any detail. Again this is slash, which means it's a romance between two men and more over a romance between a student and teacher. Though I would never turn anyone away willing to read one of my stories, if you're not comfortable with this idea, you're probably better off clicking the back button. Otherwise, please read on.  
  
  
  
Chapter One: Tempest  
  
Rain pounded with a fury against the large paned window near Harry's bed, in the seventh year Gryffindor boy's dormitory. The only other sound that could be heard drifting through the darkness was the quiet breathing of the other sleeping students. Harry lay awake on top of the covers, fully dressed. He waited until he was sure everyone was asleep. Then quietly he slipped out of bed and pulled out his invisibility cloak from his trunk. He winced when he lost his grip on the lid and it closed with a thud. He waited nervously for the sounds of anyone stirring.  
  
A familiar voice whispered behind him, "Harry, is that you? Where are you going?"  
  
Harry turned to face his friend. "Go back to bed Ron. I'm just going out to practice for a bit."  
  
Ron's sleepy gaze drifted towards the window. "In this weather?"  
  
"I'll be fine. I've flown in the rain before, Ron."  
  
Ron didn't look convinced. "I don't know, Harry. It doesn't seem like a very good idea. Maybe I should go with you?"  
  
Harry shook his head. "Better not. I only have the one cloak and you can't go flying with me. We might get caught. Don't worry, I'll be fine."  
  
Ron narrowed his eyes. "If you're sure?"  
  
"I'm sure," said Harry giving Ron a push back towards his bed, "Now go back to sleep."  
  
"Alright," said his red headed friend reluctantly, "But be careful."  
  
Harry drew up the hood of his cloak over his head and disappeared from view. "I will."  
  
Harry left and managed to escape outside unnoticed. When he got there he began to have second thoughts. The rain was coming down hard in huge drops. The wind swept violently past him, blowing his cloak up. Catching sight of the broom shack, he ran as fast as he could. Taking out his wand and muttering an unlocking spell, he hurried inside. As the door shut, the howling wind quieted, but the shack walls shuddered with every strong breeze. The wind had pulled back his hood and his long black bangs lay matted to his face. Water dripped into his eyes and he was forced to pull off his glasses and brush back his hair. He wiped the glasses on his shirt underneath and slipped them back on. Deciding it would be impossible to stay hidden under the invisibility cloak while flying, he pulled the sopping cloth off of him and stashed it away. If he ended up getting caught, he didn't want to risk losing his father's cloak.  
  
He retrieved his broom and the snitch and headed back out into the rain. He knew that what he was doing was dangerous, but if he could find the snitch in this storm, then their next match with Slytherin would be a piece of cake.  
  
He walked to the middle of the field, let the golden snitch go, boarded his broom, and took off. The cold wind whipped past him, stinging his face, but he ignored the pain and focused on finding the snitch.  
  
If anyone could have seen Harry flying through the storming night sky, they would have thought him insane, but Harry was determined. He could not lose the championship this year; his teammates were counting on him. For most of them, this was their last chance to win. They had lost last year and Harry was determined not to disappoint again.  
  
A flash of light lit the sky and thunder crackled through the air, as lightening struck close. Harry squinted his eyes and strained to see through the heavy rain. Another flash of lightening and Harry saw it, a speck of gold floating in the middle of the Quidditch field. Leaning forward Harry sped up his broom and zoomed towards it.  
  
He was close and he could feel his heart beating faster. Adrenaline rushed through him and a smile spread on his face as he reached out, his fingers inches from the glittering ball. He almost had it, he could feel it in his hand, and then something large and black came up beside him, knocking him back. He watched with wide eyes as the snitch flew away, disappearing into the rain.  
  
He could hear someone shouting at him, barely audible over the howling wind, and he turned his head. To his complete fright he found Severus Snape hovering near him on a dark handled broom. His chin length black hair clung to his cheeks and a furious tempest swirled in his black eyes to match the storm raging around them.  
  
He was motioning towards the ground and Harry could scarcely hear his shouts as he told him to go down. Harry headed towards the ground with a feeling of dread filling the pit of his stomach. Snape followed close behind him.  
  
His feet hit the wet ground with a plop and he dismounted. Harry felt numb as he stood in the center of the field awaiting his fate. He had no doubt that Snape would take him straight to the headmaster and insist he be expelled. Harry wasn't sure even Albus Dumbledore could ignore this infraction of the rules.  
  
Harry waited a long while, staring at the ground. When no lecturing tirade came forth from Snape's mouth, Harry dared to glance up nervously. The Professor's dark eyes were fixated on him. Harry shivered at the intensity with which the older man was staring at him.  
  
"Should I even ask, Mr. Potter, what you were thinking of when you decided to go flying during the middle of the night in a rainstorm or should I assume, as always, you weren't?"  
  
It was a rhetorical question, obviously, but Harry wondered at the answer. Why had he gone flying tonight? The easy answer was that he needed the practice. The truth was harder to admit.  
  
Strong hands clutched his shoulders. Snape leaned down so that they were standing face to face. "Why do you this? Why do you take these unnecessary risks?"  
  
'Why?' The question repeated in his head. Why did he do anything anymore? Harry didn't know. He had tried to throw himself into his studies and into training, doing whatever he could to keep his mind focused, away from unwanted thoughts and memories.  
  
The fury in Snape's eyes turned to desperation. "I thought this was over! I thought that you had finally settled down. You've been improving so much, your grades, your performance. Why would you throw all that away for a game? Is it really worth it? Is it worth your life? Is it? Answer me, damn you!"  
  
Harry couldn't help it, he had been trying very hard to hold back all the emotions and darks thoughts that had been swirling inside him since the final defeat of Voldemort, to move on with his life. But with the stress of knowing this was his final year, that soon he would have to say goodbye to his friends and the only place he had ever called home and not knowing what to do with himself next, it all came bursting out in a flood of tears. The hot salty teardrops mixed with the icy rain streaming down his face. He stood ashamed and embarrassed in front of his professor, but didn't bother to try and wipe them away.  
  
He closed his eyes and wished he could be anywhere than where he was. Back in his common room, sitting comfortably by a warm fire, away from the cold unforgiving rain.  
  
He felt the hands on his shoulders move to his back and he was pulled into an embrace. He lost all control then and clutched at the body before him and sobbed into his chest.  
  
Snape must have become tired supporting his weight, because after awhile Harry felt himself being lowered to the damp ground. Exhausted as he felt, Harry didn't protest and knelt down with the other man, but never loosened his grip. Snape, for his part, never broke contact either and ran an awkward, but comforting, hand through his messed hair.  
  
When the sobs had finally left him and he felt a bit calmer, Harry tentatively pulled back to look at the Potions Master who had so uncharacteristically comforted him.  
  
Harry was surprised to see his eyes were red. If Harry hadn't known any better, he would have thought Snape had been crying too. Harry lifted a hand to Severus' cheek and wiped away the water tracks trailing down, with a long slender finger. Instead of bringing his hand away, he let it linger. Severus leaned into his touch.  
  
As if compelled by some unknown force, Harry leaned forward until he could feel Snape's hot breath against his lips. He waited and when Snape didn't pull away, he closed the remaining distance and kissed him.  
  
Harry had never imagined what it would be like to kiss Severus Snape, but if he had, he would never have anticipated the heat he felt. It was a burning sensation that started with his lips and spread across his face, reddening his cheeks, down his neck, chest, and stomach, stretching to every limb, until his whole body tingled with warmth.  
  
He only had a moment to enjoy the feeling before the warmth was taken from him. He let out a gasp as Severus' lips left his. His breath came out in a puff of white steam.  
  
They stayed there frozen, locked in their embrace, neither knowing what to say. Finally Severus untangled himself from Harry and moved away. Slowly he stood up.  
  
Harry watched him slightly confused. He stared at the hand Snape offered to him, before taking it and allowing himself to be pulled up to his feet.  
  
"You better go back to your house, Harry." After a moment he added, "I won't be reporting this."  
  
Whether he meant Harry's late night broom flying or their kiss, it wasn't clear. But it was clear that whatever had just happened between them was over.  
  
Harry wasn't sure why, but he suddenly felt emptier inside than he had before. And a lot colder. He shivered and wrapped his arms around himself. He glanced over at his teacher, but the man had already turned his back to him. His black robes whipped furiously in the wind.  
  
Harry took a step closer, wanting to wrap himself once more in Severus' arms, to be shielded from the rain that beat unmercifully against his skin, to feel warm again. He opened his mouth to say something, but couldn't find the words.  
  
Severus must have sensed his hesitation, because without turning around he snapped, "Go, now!"  
  
Harry whirled around and started running back to the castle. He didn't stop until he was safely back in his own dormitory. His shoulders heaved and his chest hurt as he tried to catch his breath. He shucked off his wet clothes and climbed into his bed. He buried his head into his pillow and tried to ignore the taste that lingered in his mouth.  
  
His thoughts broke off into a thousand different directions, until nothing coherent remained and oblivion overtook him.  
  
* * *  
  
End Part One. 


	2. Nothing's Ever Easy

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Severus Snape belong to J. K. Rowling, lucky girl.  
  
Notes: Chocolate covered Snapes to everyone who gave me a nice review. Thank you so much! You've encouraged me to post more (hope you don't regret it *g*).  
  
Chapter Two: Nothing's Ever Easy  
  
The sound of talk and laughter echoed down the long stone corridors of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, as students clamored to their next class. Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger stopped outside their classroom door when they realized that their friend, Harry Potter, had stopped some feet behind them. They walked up to him and told him to hurry, but he didn't respond.  
  
He was staring at the open doorway to their Potions class or more precisely the Potions Master inside.  
  
"Harry," Ron said, "What's with you today? You've been out of it since you showed up for breakfast late this morning. Where did you go anyway?"  
  
Harry finally came out of his haze and broke his steady gaze to look at his worried friend. "Huh?"  
  
Ron sighed exasperated.  
  
"Harry," Hermione said concerned, "Ron told me you sneaked off last night to practice Quidditch after hours. You didn't fall off your broom and hit your head, did you? Maybe you should go see Madame Pomfrey."  
  
Harry shook his head. "No, I'm fine."  
  
His friends gave each other a look. They clearly didn't believe him.  
  
In a firmer voice Harry said, "I'm fine." He then walked pass them into the classroom.  
  
Inside Severus Snape was studying some papers on his desk, but when the bespectacled teenager entered, he looked up.  
  
Harry stared back as he walked to the desk he shared with Ron, but while his own face was a myriad of emotions, the one opposite was impassive. With great effort he looked away and sat down.  
  
Snape stood up from his desk and the class immediately quieted down. He started the day's lesson like any other and the students began pouring strange and varied ingredients into their cauldrons.  
  
Harry too, dutifully worked on his potion, though his attention kept drifting towards the man walking around the dungeon, stopping occasionally to inspect cauldrons, with a disdainful sneer on his pale face.  
  
While distracted, Harry didn't notice as a certain blond Slytherin held up a long newt tail and nudged his two cronies. With a flick of his wrist the tail flew across the room and landed with a plop in Harry's cauldron.  
  
Harry looked down and saw the stray piece being swallowed up by the thick black potion. He glanced up in time to catch a snickering Malfoy just before his potion began to gurgle and burp.  
  
From two tables behind them, Professor Snape's eyes shot towards them. Harry and Ron stared in horror as the contents of their cauldron started bubbling and spilling over the rim.  
  
In seconds Snape was on them, pulling Harry back, who barely avoided being hit by a large splash of the spoiled concoction.  
  
With a strong grip on the young Gryffindor's arm, Snape turned Harry to face him. Angrily he said, "Can you not follow even the most simplest of instructions, Potter? What did I say about adding too many newt tails? It becomes toxic! Do you have any idea what would have happened if any of it had gotten on you?"  
  
For awhile they just stared at each other, Harry too stunned to speak, with Snape furious. Eventually his gaze and his grip softened and he let go. Under his breath, so only Harry could hear, the professor muttered, "What am I going to do with you?"  
  
Walking away from the mess he casually said, "Twenty points from Gryffindor and I'd like you, Potter, to stay after class to arrange the details of your detention."  
  
Ron was sputtering in rage, but Harry remained quiet. Harry knew that it wasn't his fault, but at the moment the points and the eventual detention he'd have to spend with Filch didn't matter. What mattered was why he was being punished, not because he had failed an assignment, but because he had almost gotten hurt. Beyond the angry voice, Harry had seen the scared look in his eyes. Snape was concerned for Harry and Harry knew why.  
  
After class Ron and Hermione sent Harry worried glances, but Harry waved them off and told them he'd meet them in the common room later. He remained seated until the last of the students piled out the doorway. He waited until Snape closed the door, then stood and approached his teacher.  
  
Grimly Snape turned to face his student and fixed him with a serious gaze.  
  
"You are to report to Filch at eight tonight. I'm sure he will find a suitable punishment for you."  
  
Harry stared at him, stunned into silence. He had been sure Snape was going to say something about the night before. He was acting like it never happened. 'It had happened, hadn't it?' Harry's mind was beginning to fill with doubt. 'No, of course it had. I know it did.' Harry's cloak was still in the broom shack when he went there that morning to retrieve it. 'So why is he acting like it didn't?' They had kissed and while Harry wasn't sure what it meant, he wasn't about to let the professor pretend otherwise. Anger and hurt flashed in the boy's eyes before he blurted out, "You kissed me!"  
  
Severus stood still for a moment, shocked by his abruptness. Then with an exterior of calm, he answered, "As I seem to recall, you kissed me."  
  
Harry was a little taken aback by this, having expected him to deny it. Snape sighed, then walked a short ways, and leaned back against a table.  
  
"Do you really want to talk about this, Potter?"  
  
Harry nodded and his glasses slipped slightly down his nose as he did.  
  
Snape crossed his arms and said, "Then talk."  
  
Harry opened and closed his mouth a few times, unsure of what to say. Finally in a quiet voice he said, "We kissed."  
  
"Yes, I think we covered that."  
  
"Well…" Harry had wanted to talk about it, to try and make sense of what happened, but he hadn't gotten as far as thinking about what he actually wanted to say. Part of him wanted to skip talking altogether and just throw himself back into Snape's arms, but he didn't think Snape would respond kindly to that, especially with the cold dispassionate stare he was giving Harry now. Harry had kissed Snape first, but Snape had kissed him back, even if it was only briefly. What Harry felt couldn't have been all one- sided, could it?  
  
When it became apparent Harry wasn't going to finish, Snape spoke, "What happened last night was a mistake."  
  
Harry felt a horrible pang in his gut at having his doubts voiced aloud.  
  
"If you're worried I will repeat the events of last night to anyone, be rest assured it will go with me to the grave. I would appreciate the same courtesy, although I'm sure it wasn't your proudest moment either."  
  
The pang turned into an excruciating pain and Harry was sure his heart was going to explode from beating so hard. Blood rushed to his face and his fists clenched tightly at his sides. His eyes burned and he had to blink to keep the tears back.  
  
How could Harry have ever expected anything but rejection from his Potions professor? The man had spent years despising him and making him miserable. Why would he stop now over just one kiss? 'But it had been an incredible kiss', his heart told him, 'A kiss that had filled the emptiness inside and stopped all the pain.'  
  
Harry stared at the floor unable to meet the other man's eyes. Black shoes stepped into his view and he was forced to look up by a hand on his chin. Snape stared down at him with an unidentifiable look. His brows were furrowed and a frown marked his lips. It wasn't the same disapproving look he was use to receiving, but something else, and he seemed to be seeking an answer in Harry's deep green eyes, that Harry didn't know the question to.  
  
As though he found it, his hand slid from his chin to his cheek and rested there for a moment, before dropping away. He stepped back from the teenager and looked down. "You should go."  
  
Harry took a step forward. "I don't want to."  
  
Severus looked up, surprised by the admission. He was silent for a long time, before finally answering, "It's not about wants, Harry."  
  
Harry's eyes widened and a spark of hope flared in him. Emboldened he asked, "You did feel something too, last night when we kissed?"  
  
Severus closed his eyes and turned his head away. His expression was pained and for a moment Harry didn't think he was going to reply, then through gritted teeth he hissed, "Yes."  
  
* * *  
  
End Part Two.  
  
  
  
A/N: Okay, this part ends a little abruptly, but I got stuck and didn't want to keep everyone waiting, so I decided to just post it. Sorry! I actually wrote this second part before the first and it originally ended with them smooching, but I decided I didn't like that (too easy!) so I rewrote it. Isn't this much better? Hee! 


	3. Harry

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Severus Snape belong to J. K. Rowling (and each other).  
  
Notes: When you start to read this, you may feel like you missed something. You did. I just couldn't write the in-between chapter. The only solution I could find was to skip ahead. I've already started writing the next two chapters, so I'll hopefully have them posted within the next week. Thanks for all the positive feedback!  
  
Chapter Three: Harry  
  
Harry left the dungeon in a daze. He struggled up the stairway to the Gryffindor tower, leaning against the railing as he went, for support. He was feeling terribly confused. Snape had confessed to feeling something for Harry and yet when Harry reached out for him, he backed away. He went on telling Harry a multitude of platitudes as to why it could never happen again. Harry had drowned most of it out, lost in his own thoughts. He was still hurt by being turned away, but he also felt a small amount of elation at knowing Snape had felt the attraction too.  
  
Harry tried to analyze his feelings, but all it accomplished was a stomachache. So instead he focused his thoughts on Snape… Severus. Harry had a hard time thinking of him as just 'Snape' after kissing him so passionately, but the word sounded so foreign to him. Glancing around, he made certain there wasn't anyone close by to hear him. Sounding it out slowly, he whispered, "Severus." He was tempted to say it again, but shook his head realizing how silly it was. He doubted he would ever get the chance to call him by it. He wanted to. He wanted to stand face to face and say it, while looking at him straight in the eyes, to show they were equals. He needed to prove to Severus they were equals or else he would never see Harry as anything more than a little boy needing saving from himself.  
  
That was another thing, despite the harsh way the Potions Master had treated him over the years, he had always gone out of his way, however subtly, to protect him. A man couldn't so consistently try to save someone they truly despised. Harry had at times, when he was younger, compared Snape's hatred of him, to that of which Harry felt for Voldemort. But year after year, Snape would do something to disprove that theory. Severus didn't hate Harry. He certainly didn't like him, but he didn't hate him. That realization had made all difference when they were forced to band together to defeat Voldemort. Harry had found it difficult to trust him, but Severus had ended up proving himself beyond a doubt.  
  
Harry neared the entrance to his common room. His stomach knotted even tighter. His friends were waiting for him on the other side. He wasn't ready to face them yet, his mind was in too much turmoil, but he really didn't have much of a choice. If he didn't go in, they would undoubtedly go looking for him and when they did find him, there would be too many questions. Harry had enough of his own to deal with, so steeling himself, he spoke the password to the portrait, which swung aside, and entered.  
  
Just as Harry expected, his two friends were sitting comfortably on a couch in front of a small table littered with papers. Hermione had her nose, typically, buried in a book, while Ron's open book lay uselessly on his lap while his head was tilted back, resting on the couch. Hermione lowered her book and Ron straightened as they noticed Harry.  
  
"Oh good, you're alive," commented Ron. "I was beginning to worry that Snape had finally snapped and stuck you in a cauldron, while trying to boil you in a potion."  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Really, Ron." She looked at Harry. "We really were worried though. Are you alright?"  
  
Harry put on his best game face and gave his friends a half-smile. "Yeah. Got detention with Filch tonight though."  
  
"Argh! It's so bloody unfair! It was all Malfoy's fault. I swear, one of these days we're going to find a way to get back at him, big time!"  
  
"You better think fast then, Ron. We graduate in less than two months," Harry replied somewhat sullenly. He walked over to the couch and sat down, squeezing his two friends together. "Still, it could be worse. You could have gotten detention with me."  
  
Ron made a face and decided to change the subject. "I don't know about you, but I'm famished."  
  
Hermione glanced at the time. "It's almost time for dinner. We should probably start on our way down there." She stood gathering her books and rolling up the stray pieces of parchment. Ron tossed his textbook carelessly next to her neat pile.  
  
They started for the door when they noticed Harry wasn't following. "Aren't you coming?"  
  
Harry shook his head. "I'm not hungry. You two go ahead."  
  
"Harry, are you sure you're alright? Do you have a stomachache," asked Hermione.  
  
"I just need to lay down for a bit. I'll be fine."  
  
"You probably caught a cold, flying about in the freezing rain, last night. You really should be more careful, Harry," lectured Hermione.  
  
"Aw, its probably nothing," said Ron, "The idea of spending any length of time with Filch would be enough to make anyone nauseous. Tell you what, Harry, I'll sneak you out some food in case you get hungry later."  
  
"Thanks, Ron." Harry smiled at his friend. They waved goodbye, then left through the portrait hole. The rest off the Gryffindors hungrily made their way out to dinner, leaving Harry alone. He walked the steps to his dorm, then collapsed onto his bed.  
  
He rolled onto his side and curled up his body. He tried to find a solution to the ache he felt in his heart, but all his thoughts lead into one direction. Severus.  
  
* * *  
  
End Part Three. 


End file.
